


three days, and maybe longer

by dustywords



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, Swan Queen Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-16
Updated: 2014-06-16
Packaged: 2018-02-04 20:26:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,129
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1792111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dustywords/pseuds/dustywords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The trip to Las Vegas was supposed to be fun and not ending with an accidental marriage, a pack of wolves in the hotel suite and a missing bride. (SQ Week, day 7: "Accidental marriage")</p>
            </blockquote>





	three days, and maybe longer

**Author's Note:**

> i wanted to write something short, funny and clever for the trope "accidental marriage". instead, i wrote something long that is a mash up between Sex and the City (four women having a good time in a big city), the Hangover, Part I (people doing some shit and not remembering it the next day) and What Happens in Vegas (people getting married while drunk). it's nothing groundbreaking. 
> 
> also: a) the fic takes place after Zelena's "suicide", b) Robin and Regina were still in the "I might be interested in you, let's flirt and see what happens"-phase and c) this fic shouldn't be taken too seriously. really, don't. 
> 
> title can be found in the song "Last Exit" by Pearl Jam.

**10 hours before the wedding**

“Mom? Yeah, hi. It’s me, Emma.” Deep breath. “Listen, we’re, uhm… we kinda fucked up and… I don’t think we’ll make it in time for the wedding.” It’s so hot that Emma is sure the phone is now glued to her skin. “Tell everyone that we’re truly sorry and, yeah… shit,” she breathes and god, why is it so fucking hot.

She looks at Regina and she can swear that this damn woman is giving her a judgmental look from behind her black sunglasses.

Stupid former queen that doesn’t look like a melted banana in the deserts of Nevada. Even Ruby looks as if the heat doesn’t bother her much. It might have something to do with the really short hot pants.

“ _What are you …? Are you alright? It’s 8am our time… What happened? Is somebody hurt_?”

“Uh, we just… it got out of control and…” _And I married Regina by accident, oops_. The ring burns on her finger and certainly feels as heavy as The Ring that was carried back to Mordor by a hobbit named Frodo.  She still can’t take it off. “We never wanted to—”

She never finishes the sentence, because her phone isn’t glued to her ear anymore. Ruby tackles her from behind and the phone rolls several feet away, the sand probably getting everywhere. Fuck.

“Ruby, _what the actual fuck_ ,” she hisses, trying to get rid of her friend’s weight on her back, but Ruby is busy with fishing for the phone.

“Don’t worry, Snow, Emma was just making a prank call … We’re all fine, I swear. She just lost a bet … Say hi to everyone, we’re about to drive to the airport. Bye!”

Emma is still lying on her stomach. “Fuck, what are you doing?” she yells, getting to her feet and she’s about to throw a good punch at the grinning face of the werewolf, when a strong, warm hand stops her.

Regina sighs. “At least wait until Miss Lucas answers your question and _then_ punch her for … whatever reason suits you the best. You have a lot to pick from, isn’t that right, Miss Lucas?” She looks at Ruby and even the glasses can’t disguise the death glare.

Emma relaxes a bit.

Ruby chuckles. “God, you’re so married, it’s not even funny any—”

“Ruby, focus!” Emma interrupts her and stalks closer, shaking Regina’s hand off, because not only is it irritating that Regina didn’t take it off of her arm, her skin also seems to catch on fire any second now under Regina’s palm. “Why did you tell her that?”

Ruby smiles and it looks relieved and happy. And then she says the best thing Emma has ever heard at 5 am in the middle of a desert: “I remember where Belle is.”

*

**45 hours before the wedding**

Emma only realizes how much she really misses New York when she sees the colorful billboards and light glowing in the sinking sun of Las Vegas. The streets are filled with cars, people and the whispered promise of a good time. She smiles.

“I don’t want to gloat, but the limousine was a good idea on my part,” Ruby says and winks at Belle. “I hope you agree with me?”

Belle chuckles. “This is crazy. It’s just so…”

“Terrifying,” Regina murmurs and stares out of the tinted windows at the city.

Emma laughs softly. “You should see Manhattan. Especially the traffic jams during lunch break. They’re terrifying.”

“And you felt like mentioning New York again, because …?”

Before Emma can tell her to shove that condescending tone elsewhere, Ruby interrupts her, rolling her eyes. “Would it kill you two to stop fighting for one night? Just one night.”

“Yes,” Belle joins her. “Be good, I am the bride.” She smiles satisfied with her choice of words and looks like a lovesick dork.

Regina’s working jaw and deep sigh seem to agree with Emma’s mental notes. “Fine,” she grits out, staring out of the window again.

Ruby nods and reaches for her glass of champagne. Emma looks at her empty glass and wonders where and when the content disappeared. Belle looks slightly tipsy, while Regina keeps staring out of the window. Right now they’ve stopped at a red traffic light and it’s actually fun to watch Regina’s curious eyes roam over the masses of tourists walking on the side walk, some of them already in various states of undress.

Emma hides her grin when she notices Regina’s incredulous look. “Why are they…?”

The limousine moves again, and no one answers her unfinished sentence. Ruby is busy with taking selfies of both her and Belle and Emma tries to relax, but it’s hard.

Especially with an empty glass.

“I am sorry,” she murmurs to Regina, who is sitting right next to her and yet she seems so far away.

“For what?” Dark eyes find hers and look at her questioningly.

“What happened with… you know,” she mumbles and gets more and more quiet.

“Oh,” Regina breathes and looks away again. “ _That_.”

“She shouldn’t have…”

“I’d rather not talk about it, if that’s alright with you, Miss Swan.”

“Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Belle, you spilled my whole drink!” Ruby screeches in between and somehow Lady Gaga’s voice blares even louder out of the boxes.

Emma feels how the familiar annoyance that always finds her as soon as she has to attend a party. She tries to ignore it and inches closer to Regina to prevent her words from being swallowed by that trash of a song. Who cares about a bad romance anyway? “Don’t push me away like that. I know you have Robin to talk about that, or… whatever you guys are doing, but you can talk to me too, if you… if you feel like it.”

“Oh, suddenly you want to talk? Where was that kind of notion when you planned to take Henry back to Manhattan, hm?”

“Now you are starting with it again,” Emma points out and she’s really, _really starting to hate this stupid song_. “I know that it was a shitty thing to… want, because it’s selfish, but I already promised before we left for the airport that I wouldn’t do it, okay?”

“I’ll believe you once you sign a contract with blood and not a moment earlier,” Regina determines with a straight face, but there is a glint of amusement in her dark eyes and _for the love of god, why_.

“Very funny, your Majesty,” Emma rolls her eyes.

Regina just chuckles darkly.

*

“Why would anyone call a hotel in the middle of Nevada’s desert _Caesar’s Palace_?” Regina whispers to Emma, while Ruby and Bella are standing at the desk in the hotel’s lobby, taking care of their reservation.

“Maybe the same guy who named a salad after him?” Emma shrugs and is glad about the air conditioner. It’s winter in Maine and she didn’t really think about how hot it actually gets in places like Las Vegas. Well, she did think about it while throwing some clothes in her bag, but she wasn’t prepared for the actual heat.

Regina examines the fountain with the three half-naked women on top of it that stands in the middle of the lobby. “I don’t know what I expected you to answer,” she says more to herself, but Emma gives her a dirty look anyway. For good measure.

“Follow me, please,” Ruby orders them and Emma was so busy with staring at Regina and wondering if the woman will ever have fun tonight that she didn’t notice Ruby and Belle’s return until now. Belle is already walking to the elevators.

Time to face their suite.

*

“Holy shit.” Emma is speechless. “Who’s paying for this crap?”

“They don’t call him Mr Gold for nothing, sweetheart,” Ruby winks and enters the suite that looks like it was stolen from a modern palace. Well, at least the hotel lives up to its name, Emma thinks. “He’s paying almost 5 grand for the suite and everything else,” Ruby continues, while Emma follows her into the living room and tries hard not to drop her back. _Jesus Christ on a cracker._ “One would think he feels guilty for something,” Ruby whispers conspiratorially to her, checking out the open kitchen.

Emma is glad that her friend chose this moment to look away, because she can’t hide her frown. Yeah, Gold seemed rather pleased with the idea of her, Regina, Ruby and Belle leaving town some days after Zelena’s sudden suicide in her prison cell.

That little imp.

But she pushes the dark thoughts away, because Belle wants to have fun and while she can’t understand how this beautiful, headstrong woman can be so blind when it comes to her twisted and sneaky True Love, she is in no place to judge her for it. It’s not her business.

She walks to her room, places the bag on the king sized bed and enjoys the fantastic view from here.

Maybe this whole trip won’t be a bad thing after all.

*

She’s changed into her red dress, the one she wore when Henry found her and she doesn’t know why, but this fact makes her smile fondly at her own reflection.

“Are you ready to leave, Emma? They are waiting downstairs.” There was no knock, just this question and then suddenly Regina is in her room, wearing a black leather dress, killer heels and make-up that makes it horribly difficult to breathe.

“Uh…”

“You own a dress? Consider me surprised,” Regina says with a small impressed smile and an arched eyebrow.

Emma blinks. And looks at her reflection in the mirror. Why is that even happening? That dress is just… ah, fuck it, it’s leather and Regina looks like some evil goddess and maybe that’s why she briefly considered giving in to Hook’s persistent love admissions over the past few. weeks. The black leather. It was the black leather.

“I am ready, yes,” she says, smoothes some invisible crinkles in her dress down and takes her clutch from the nightstand. “Let’s go.”

*

**43 hours before the wedding**

Emma forgot the name of the restaurant Belle picked, but she’s never eaten better in her life. Even Regina, ever the critical cook, looks at her medium raw beef as if it holds all the answers to her questions.

Ruby already finished her steak. “Don’t tell Granny that, but this is the best steak I’ve ever had.”

“We won’t,” Belle nods, taking her wine glass in her hand. The engagement ring shines in the warm candle light.

“And it’s not really a shame to admit that, Ruby,” Regina adds, her mood seemingly better than two hours ago in the limousine.

Ruby smiles at her and lifts her glass, watching the others’ glasses and waiting for them all to join her toast. “I’ll drink to that.”

Regina returns the relaxed smile and Emma joins them with her glass, just like Belle.

Yeah, this night is going to be nice.

*

**27 hours before the wedding**

_Ugh_.

Emma wants to die and maybe she is dying right now. She tries to blink, groans at the blindingly bright light streaming through the wide windows, because of course she didn’t think of drawing the curtains. She covers her eyes with her arm and takes a deep breath.

She frowns. There is a bitter-sour taste in her mouth and she hates her past-self for not taking a shower after returning from—

Wait. She’s naked. Maybe she wanted to hop in the shower, but got distracted by her phone and sat down on the bed and then… then she fell asleep. She groans again. The headache is murdering every brain cell that is already awake. Fuck. What did she drink last night?

She tries to open her eyes again and it takes a few moments to get her eyes adjusted to it. The cream colored covers of her king sized bed are too soft to be real, but somehow they are stuck in the middle of the bed, maybe the blanket got stuck in the gap between the two mattresses (which begs the question why a hotel like this would use two separate mattresses in the first place) and that’s why—

No.

Her cover got stuck under a body. A warm, breathing body, _thank god_. Lying on her left. And that’s when she realizes that she has no fucking clue what happened last night. Nothing. Her brain is empty, her memory wiped out. She remembers the dinner in that fancy restaurant, she remembers vaguely how they went to a bar and then… nothing.

Oh no.

Did she have a one night stand with a complete stranger? In Sin City? While being out with the other girls?

Regina’s going to have a snit fit when she finds out about this and then Emma will be able to enjoy another long speech about responsibility and how she has to be a role model for Henry. Jesus, the kid isn’t even here.

She tries to get a look at the stranger, but the face is turned away from her and the covers are hiding most of the body. Just the dark hair and a very feminine looking arm are visible.

Oh.

Emma closes her eyes again and pinches her arm harder. Sleeping with an unknown woman doesn’t help her case. Ruby is going to tease her until her last breath and Belle is going to look at her, confused and lost, because everyone seems to assume that she and Hook are a thing. And Regina will still hold her speech.

She looks around and yep, the floor is covered with clothes. Her red dress is lying close to the bed. But where is her underwear?

 _Ughhh_.

The body groans. Moves. And turns around to lie on her back.

Fuck.

Emma is sure to be dead. There is no way this happened. (Especially with her not being able to remember if it was good or not.)

Regina closes her eyes immediately with an annoyed hiss and tries to hide under her cover—or under half of Emma’s actually—but they’re still stuck, because Emma is holding onto them and wow, this is going to be beyond awkward.

Regina lifts slowly her arm, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion, before she manages to look in her direction.

The longest second in Emma Swan’s life is also the most awkward one.

“Please tell me that this is a nightmare and I am not lying naked next to you in a bed.”

Okay, she can do this. “This is a nightmare,” she obeys and holy shit, according to her throaty voice it _was_ good. (Why is she even thinking about this in that way? God. Somebody stop that. Preferably by killing her and ending her misery.)

Regina closes her eyes again. “Good,” she whispers and of course it’s not.

But Emma has no idea what to do. She’s close to panicking, actually. It’s not that she slept with Regina as in _shit, I slept with a woman_ , it’s more like _shit, I slept with_ Regina _and oh no, why_.

Well, the why seems to be a lot of alcohol. It’s weird that she can’t remember a thing, though. Usually she can hold her liquor and her hangover is just a drumming headache, a picky stomach and general exhaustion. Not memory loss.

“It’s not a nightmare, is it?”

“I have to pee,” Emma blurts out and _hurray, make it more awkward, Swan, I dare ya._

Regina’s jaw is working again, her eyes strictly fixed on the ceiling. “I don’t remember how this,”—she waves with her right hand between them—“happened, so I really hope you did not drug me to get your ways, Miss Swan, because _if so_ , so help me god, I’ll destroy—”

“What? Jesus, calm down!” Emma hisses and clears her throat. She could use a glass of water, to be honest. “I don’t remember a thing either, so maybe… maybe someone put something in our drinks. It happens. It’s actually good that we woke up here, in our hotel room and not in some filthy van or cold basement.”

“I feel much better now, thank you,” Regina glares at her, her voice too sharp for this kind of situation. It pierces right through her brain and Emma winces.

“Not so loud.”

“What, afraid to get caught with me? Should I hide under the bed, then?”

Emma sits up, holding the duvet with both hands in front of her bare chest. “Would you stop? This is not the time to accuse me of some… what are you even accusing me of? That I am freaking out? I hate losing my memory, this shit is creeping me out.”

“Emma.”

Oh, no. She’s not going to stop now. “Also, how fucking wonderful that you are blaming me. What if it was the other way around? Why do you assume that I wanted to end up here, in one bed with you, naked?” She furiously tries to ignore the dark hickey on Regina’s neck.

Regina slowly sits up, her gaze fixed on her chest and, wow, that’s rude.

“Emma, what…”

“Stop staring at my covered boobs.”

Regina’s eyes snap up. “You stupid idiot,” she spits out, holding the blanket in front of her chest with only one hand. The other is reaching for Emma’s left hand. Touching something.

A golden ring.

A wedding band.

 _Hell, no_.

“Oh, fuck, no,” Emma breathes and checks Regina’s left hand, and _no, no, no_. This is not happening. They are not— It’s—

 _Fucking hell_.

Regina pinches the bridge of her nose and looks like she’s going through possible ways to murder Emma in her head. Which is plain unfair, she’s just as much of a victim as she is. “I need to shower,” Regina suddenly says, tugging at her bedcover, wrapping it like a towel around her body.

And then she disappears in the bathroom next to Emma’s bedroom (and it’s hers, because her bag is lying in front of the closed wardrobe) and slams the door shut.

“I still have to pee,” she whines, falls back on the bed and hides her face in the soft pillow.

It smells like apples.

*

She quickly puts on her boxers and tank top she actually planned to wear when going to bed. Yeah, now this plan is a fucking joke, but whatever. Her bladder is going to explode. She tiptoes to the main bathroom across the hallway, trying to determine if the rest of their group is still asleep. Her right hand is trying to get the ring off, but it doesn’t move.

Fucking sweaty, warm hands.

She’s almost there, when her breath hitches.

She halts.

 _Oh fuck_.

The whole suite is a mess. Like, the TV flat screen is hanging askew on the wall, broken dishes are lying around, the armchair is fuming (how is that even possible and why is it doing that) and there are towels lying everywhere.

Well, somebody had the time of their life.

Maybe it was her.

And she just can’t remember.

She sighs, continues her walk to the bathroom and is relieved to find the door open. She shuffles to the toilet, rubs her eyes, yawns and is about to sit down, when a low grumble makes her pause. She turns her head and if she didn’t wake up naked next to Regina with a dark hickey on her neck, also naked, then she’d be sure to be dreaming right now.

Ruby is snoring in the big bath tub, fully clothed, mouth slightly agape.

To her feet in front of the bath tub are lying four or five grown wolves.

 _Sleeping wolves_.

Her bladder isn’t that important anymore and she stumbles out of the bathroom, closing the door softly, but with shaking hands behind her. What the flying fuck happened? How did the wolves— Why is Ruby—

Her brain can’t cope with that.

And her bladder is still full.

She runs back to her bedroom, not really interested in finding out if Belle is sleeping next to a real beast or not, and starts banging obnoxiously loud with both fists against the closed bathroom door. She can hear the running shower, the low growl and then the water stops.

“Somebody better has died, Miss Swan!” Regina yells.

Emma doesn’t even care. “Regina, you need to get the hell out of there. _Now_!”

*

Regina quickly closes the door, her hair still wet from her abruptly ended shower. “What the hell,” she curses with wide eyes. “How did they get in here?” She tugs at her black t-shirt, because she didn’t get the chance to put some pants on before Emma dragged her out of the room.

(Also, are those scratch marks on her thigh?)

Emma shrugs and worries her lower lip, looking everywhere but at Regina’s legs. “It’s a matter of time until the hotel manager will find out. And then we get thrown into jail.”

Regina sighs. “And this is exactly why I didn’t want to leave Storybrooke. I could be sitting at the diner with Robin, Roland and Henry, eating lunch. Instead I am _here_ , possibly married to _you_ , while a wolf pack is sleeping in the bathroom of our suite!”

“Now that possible marriage seems not like the worst thing anymore, huh?”

“Oh, shut up.”

Emma really wants to ignore the scratch marks. And fails. “We need to wake Belle up. Maybe she’ll know what happened in here,” she whispers.

“Against my better judgment, I agree with you here,” Regina says, massaging her temple again. “Go, shower. I’ll meet you here in ten.”

“Yes, Mrs. Swan,” Emma snickers while running off.

*

Belle is not in her room, not in her bathroom, not in the kitchen, not in the living room—she’s not there. Emma and Regina checked every place, not talking much while doing so.

And they still can’t take off their rings. Fucking great, the whole thing. Regina mostly doesn’t look at her left hand and a part of Emma wants to be that asshole that asks her if she should bring her a pair of gloves to cover it.

But she’s too tired, too hungover to be that mean at almost 12pm.

At least Ruby wakes up a few minutes later, with a scream that is accompanied by some growling. She rushes out of the bathroom, and closes the door as fast as possible, looking at them. “Is that some sort of sick prank?”

“No. We were wondering if you can remember anything from last night,” Regina tells her, crossing her arms.

Ruby tilts her head, confusion coloring her pale features. “Is that a hickey?”

Wrong question. Emma can see the vein on Regina’s forehead. She clears her throat. “Focus, Ruby,” she says with a calm voice. “We can’t remember a thing. Like, I have a black out after our visit to the bar and that was, what? 11 pm.”

“I…” She scrunches her face, rubs her eyes and stifles a yawn. She’s still in her short black dress. Only the red heels and lipstick are missing. “God, I can’t remember anything,” she says with a dull voice and Emma wants to smash her skull against a wall. Fuck everything.

“Great,” Regina mutters, pushing at her hair. She sounds far away from finding it great.

Emma simply leans against the wall, before she remembers the bigger problem at hand. “And we somehow lost the bride.”

“Shit.”

*

**26 hours before the wedding**

Lunch time. Or in their case, eating dry bread and drinking a lot of water with occasional aspirin thrown back into their throats.

“Okay, I have a bill of a strip club, a card of that bar we went first and a phone number. Hmm, weird.” Ruby adjusts her dark sunglasses anew.

They are all wearing sunglasses. Totally not suspicious.

Emma’s clutch is filled with money bills, a lipstick that doesn’t belong to her and some poker chips. “I think we gambled,” she opts to say, closing her clutch again. She’ll have a closer look at the stuff in there later.

Regina just gives her a long look that is hidden behind her big dark glasses, but Emma can tell that it’s not a very friendly look. Regina couldn’t take her ring off as well, which is why she keeps her left hand hidden under the table. She also hides her phone, because she keeps texting Henry and maybe Robin, whatever.

Emma sent a text to Henry, too. _Tell Snow that our flight might be delayed._

And she is also hiding that damn ring.

Ruby doesn’t notice these small things.

Emma is still waiting for her headache to fully disappear. “We need a plan,” she mumbles into her glass of water, feeling the sweat running down between her shoulder blades. “First, we need to find out where the wolves came from and bring them back. Unseen, of course. Second, we need to find Belle. Check possible places where she could be. And we need to find out what happened last night and why we can’t remember.”

“If that innocent looking bookworm has something to do with my memory loss and everything else that followed,”—she avoids Emma’s direction with her eyes—“then I’ll kill her.”

“Thanks for the very helpful input.”

“You, Miss Swan, fail to understand what is at stake here.”

“I know damn well what is at stake here,” she hisses back, glaring at Regina. This fucking woman, always lashing out when angry. Okay, she has every right to be angry. But still.

“Guys, we need to find my phone,” Ruby tells them with a thoughtful face. “Once we have my phone, we’ll be able to reconstruct the whole night. And it’s on silent so we won’t find it with calling it,” she adds when she sees Emma’s hand retrieving her phone from her shorts.

Emma tilts her head. “Great. And how would your phone help us anyway?”

“I remember taking a lot of pictures outside of the restaurant, remember? We even took one of the four of us. So, I’ll just assume that I continued to take pictures. Hopefully I am right and we’ll find out where Belle is.”

“That could work,” Regina nods and pushes the plate with her half-eaten bread roll away from her. “But Emma’s is right; we need to get rid of the wolves first.”

“Let me handle that. I’ll try that number I found in my purse, maybe it’s the owner of them.” She licks her lip. “I am the one who probably fucked that one up, so I’ll fix this. Being the only werewolf among our ladies group and stuff,” Ruby says and thank god. Emma wouldn’t go near those beasts again unless forced to.

“Very well. And we will look for your phone and Belle. Maybe you lost it and someone found it. Is there a place where lost things are brought to?” Regina directs the question to her and Emma has to fight the bitter laugh that is bubbling up in her throat. This woman.

“Oh, wow. This ain’t Storybrooke anymore, your Majesty,” Emma reminds her softly, still trying to get rid of that damn ring under the table. But it doesn’t move even an inch. “Let’s hope the phone is where Belle is,” she simply tells her.

Regina purses her lips. “I hate that you convinced me to come here,” she huffs and she sounds a lot like that hateful mayor of old. Perfect, that’s what she needs right now.

She scowls. “And you are placing the blame again on me. Please stop, it’s fucking annoying.”

“Well, your whole existence is annoying me since I know that there is someone like you to be annoyed about.”

“Are you trying to tell me—”

“Guys,” Ruby sighs exasperated. “Can you stop with that for at least another few hours until we found Belle?”

They both only nod.

*

**23 hours before the wedding**

They checked the hospital, some of the places they remembered and… found nothing; neither Belle nor Ruby’s phone could be found.

And now they’re in front of a small chapel.

Where they got married, according to the card Regina found in her own purse. “You sure this is a good idea?”

“Maybe we left her here. We… had a lot to drink, obviously.”

“I am still going with being drugged, but whatever.” She closes the car they hastily rented and gives Regina a doubtful look. “You are awfully quiet since we left the hospital. Is it because I mentioned Baby Leo? Or that I said sorry you have to lie to Robin and Henry? Because I am, even if I… this is not my fault, I have no fucking clue what happened, but…”

“It’s not that,” Regina interrupts her with a impatient wave of her hand. She starts walking towards the entrance and Emma follows her. It’s fucking hot. “I find myself thinking how that happened in the first place.”

“We got drunk and fucked some shit up. Wow, we’re not the first ones doing that in Vegas.” She opens and hold the door for Regina. “We’ll fix it, trust me.”

“Emma,” Regina stops two feet away from the door and takes her glasses off. Emma lets the door fall closed again. “I keep asking myself why we ended up married in the first place. You can blame strong liquor just to a certain point. But something… we aren’t even… real friends, and yet…” She looks away then, her hands playing with her glasses.

Emma furrows her brows. Regina is nervous. Hm. “Look, this is not the end. We’ll get divorced and no one will ever find out that we—”

“You are missing my point here, Emma!” Regina falls into her word again, growing more and more impatient. She paces around, pushing at her hair and her sudden change in mood reminds Emma that maybe it’s not fair to ask Regina to remain calm about this whole shit. “What I mean is,” Regina starts again, this time her voice sounding more collected, “why did we even _feel_ _drawn to each other_.”

Emma clears her throat. And breathes. And feels her heartbeat speeding up. And breathes some more. “I don’t know,” she rasps out, because the obvious answer can’t be the right answer.

Regina is seeing a guy, right?

There is no space for her in this fucking tale of—

Suddenly Regina is too close for her taste. Or not close enough. God, she needs some sleep. “We didn’t just make out or had sex, Emma. We got _married_. And no matter how drunk I’d be, I would never consider even _hugging_ Hook, let alone marry him.”

Emma feels Regina’s breath on her lips. It’s too hot to be this close, right? There is a law against this, isn’t there? “But what about Robin,” she tries weakly, not really knowing why she asked that.

Regina’s hand is on her cheek. Somebody stop this woman. This is not fair. How is she supposed _not_ to lean in? “We just started to get to know each other and until I haven’t... worked through some things, it’s better to not see him for a while at all.”

“Wait, what?”

Regina lets go of her cheek and steps back. “Let’s go. Time to enter the place that started this mess,” she says, pointing at the ring that still won’t move.

Emma thinks about Gollum and how he bit off Frodo’s finger to get the ring off.

No, she’s not desperate enough for that.

This time Regina is holding the door for her. “Are you coming?”

*

**20 hours before the wedding**

The day took an unexpected turn after their brief visit at the chapel, even though Emma should’ve known better than that. She should’ve known that someone like Regina, a woman used to people being afraid of her, would lash out on a cop and expect him to tremble with fear.

Instead, it got them in handcuffs and a warm, cramped place in a prison cell for one night.

She didn’t even do anything.

Emma is sitting on the hard plastic bench of that cell, leaning against the wall and staring at the golden ring. Regina is right next to her, staring at the wall in front of them. The cell is really tiny. And the only sound is their breathing and footsteps outside of their cell.

She sighs. The police officer registering them in the system had muttered something about grown up people being worse than children while drunk.

And seeing that they are now in prison for one night, Emma has to agree. This whole thing escalated quickly.

“I am sorry,” Regina suddenly whispers next to her and she has to look at her to make sure that she didn’t just make that up. But Regina is looking at her with soft, apologetic eyes. “For getting us arrested.”

“Calling a cop a sexist pig is never a good idea,” she muses, too tired to be properly angry about this whole situation. “Especially if he just asked if that car is yours because he noticed that the blinker wasn’t working properly and not because he wanted to point out what a bad driver you are.”

“I said I am sorry.”

“And I am not really mad. Just super tired and confused and… also sorry.”

Now Regina is giving her a surprised look. “What?”

“That we’re really married.” The guy at the chapel had been so happy to see them, and he showed them pictures of their wedding.

The most disturbing thing about the pictures was not that the dark hickey was already on Regina’s neck there, or that Emma thought it’d be cool to wear a cowboy hat, but the big goofy smiles both had plastered on their lips. They looked oddly happy at the white altar. (She will never forget the pink walls and the white roses in the background of these pictures.)

“We can still be done with all that and no one has to know about it,” she adds, because that has to be gnawing at Regina the most, right? “I mean, whatever it is between us, we don’t have to, you know, stay married or…” she shrugs, because frankly, she doesn’t know what else to say.

Regina looks so young and a bit lost. “You would keep it secret for… for my sake?”

“Not everyone sucks as hard at keeping secrets as my mom.”

Regina laughs softly. “You might be right, dear.”

“So, we’re good?”

“You’re not taking Henry back to New York, once we get back?”

“I promise you, I won’t. Pinkie promise.” She holds pinkie out and looks at her. And sighs. She takes Regina’s hand in hers, guides her pinkie to hers and wraps her finger around Regina’s. “That’s a pinkie promise.”  
“How old are you, Miss Swan? Five? And I know what a pinkie promise is, I raised Henry for ten years.” The _idiot_ remains unsaid.

Emma smiles. “I am also sorry for the hickey I don’t remember giving you,” she adds, because she feels like she should do that.

Regina snorts, still not taking her hand out of Emma’s. “Yes, well. One would think I would at least remember that. What did you try to do? It’s almost black.”

“What part of ‘I don’t remember’ didn’t you get?”

Regina just shakes her head, looking ahead again.

Their hands keep touching while they both lean their heads back against the cold wall.

*

**11 hours before the wedding**

The clatter of keys and the opening of the door wakes Emma up. She’s still sitting upright against the wall, but Regina’s head is on her shoulder and basically the former Evil Queen is using her as a pillow.

They got all married couple-y real fast.

Damn her and her soft hair.

“Time to wake up, Mrs and Mrs Swan-Mills.”

She’ll never get used to this. It sounds so...

(Good. It sounds good. But no, it’s off the table. It needs to be dissolved.)

Regina stirs, lifts her head and yawns. She looks a bit sheepishly at Emma, before she gets to her feet, stretching her back. They don’t talk while walking behind the officer to the room where they first arrived. Ruby is waiting there and wow, what took her so long. They called her on her newly purchased phone with the pre-paid card _ages ago_.

Doesn’t matter, at least she’s here.

“Well, fuck,” Emma says and Regina sighs. They are standing too close next to each other, their arms keep brushing. Oh, well. Who cares anymore.

“You didn’t find her?”

Ruby shakes her head. “No. I barely slept, but I couldn’t find her.” And yeah, she has dark circles around her eyes and she is all fidgety and looks kind of guilty.

Emma narrows her eyes, doesn’t say anything, because the officer returned with a box of their possessions.

They walk out of the station, to the rented car Emma and Regina had to leave behind is waiting there for them. Emma doesn’t really want to know how Ruby got rid of the wolves and what car she used. Or what the owner said. Or why her left hand is covered in a bandage.

“I found out that the wolves belonged to some magician from around here and I had to use Gold’s debit card to convince him that there is no need to report us. Someone lost 20 thousand dollar.” She doesn’t sound too sad about that fact. (Also how rich is Gold, for fuck’s sake?)

Emma gets on the passenger seat, Regina takes the backseat. Ruby doesn’t talk much, turns the radio on and pretends to hum, but she misses a lot of tunes and Emma knows from her numerous visits at Granny’s that Ruby doesn’t miss tunes. Something is bothering her friend.

They drive for ten minutes, and at first Emma doesn’t notice it, but suddenly they are leaving the city. The desert is right in front of them. Wide and open and hot.

“What are you doing?” It’s 5am and Emma wonders what the hell Ruby wants to find in the desert. Surely she doesn’t really believe to find their friend and future wife of the Dark One in this fucking desert, right?

Ruby remains silent and Emma can feel the confusion and suspicion radiating off Regina.

Oh-oh.

“Ruby?”

“I have to confess something.” She leaves the road and stops the engine. The sand is swirling around their car and Emma can’t do much but stare at her friend. “And yes, I have to do it here, out in the open. I don’t know if… anger is going to tick your magic off or something, despite being away from Storybrooke.”

“Ruby…” Regina starts warningly, but Ruby turns the engine off and gets out of the car.

Emma looks at Regina and they follow the waitress. “Ruby, what the fuck is going on?” she asks impatiently. It’s too early, the sun is already up and also, why is it getting warm so quickly?

“Do you need help to hide a body?”

“No,” Ruby sighs and rubs her forehead. “I did it.”

“You killed someone?” Emma gasps and this is a sick joke, right? “Please tell me it was one of the wolves and an accident.

“No. The memory thing? That’s on my plate.”

Regina takes her sunglasses out and puts them on, her shoulders stiff. Gone is the soft and open woman from the prison cell. (What a paradox, right?) “You are responsible for this mess?”

“I thought it would be fun! Tink said nothing bad would happen, that pixie dust would make us all relax.”

“Yes, but only if the magic can properly work!” Regina almost shouts. “Which it obviously can’t here, you dense puppy!”

Emma throws her arms up. _Fucking magic_. “Ruby, why did you even asked for that dumb pixie dust?”

Ruby looks really, really sorry. Good. Hopefully that’s what kept her awake the whole night. “I feel awful. I didn’t think about that. I forgot that there is no magic here.”

“Oh, there is. Enough to let the dust backfire. God, I’ll kill Tinkerbell once we’re back.”

Emma wants to face palm herself. Or punch Ruby, actually. “You can’t just go and put drugs into our… wait, what exactly did you drug?”

“The red wine, at the restaurant.”

“You…!”

“Okay, we don’t have time for that. We’re already late for our flight. Where the hell is the bride? We can’t return without her.”

“No one saw her the whole day,” Ruby hurries to explain. “And I figured that it doesn’t matter if we get the flight or not, because once Gold finds out that we lost his precious True Love, we’re going to be lit on fire.”

“Speak for yourself, dog.”

“Regina.” Emma glares at her, fishing for her phone. “We need to tell them that we’re coming back a bit later. Maybe I can tell my mom to—”

“Why do you feel the need to inform her out of all people? Why inform them at all about all this?”

“They’ll wonder where we are. Gold is going to kill us anyway, it’s pointless to keep it secret,” Emma tells her and she’s sure that Regina’s is rolling her eyes behind the dark glasses. It’s getting hotter with each passing minute. “Just wait here, I’ll be back in a minute.”

She gets her phone out of her pocket and dials Snow’s number.

*

**10 hours before the wedding**

“And where is she?” Emma barks, still not happy that she got tackled by Ruby. There are nicer ways to end a phone call.

Ruby looks too happy for her liking. “The rooftop. I told her to go there and wait for me, we wanted to see the sunrise. I don’t remember why. Anyway, I fell asleep in the bathtub and then… well. At least I remember now, right?”

“This was the first and last trip I accompanied you, Miss Lucas. I should set you on fire.”

“Regina.”

“Shut up, Mrs Swan-Mills.”

*

**1 hour before the wedding**

“You look lovely, Belle,” Ruby tells her friend, her expression a mix between regret and guilt. Belle didn’t talk to her the whole drive to the airport and the whole flight, either.

“If you ignore the sunburn I got on that roof, then yes, I look like a real bride,” Belle gives back, smoothing down her white robe.

Emma and Regina are standing with them in the room, because… well, facing the crowd is a horrible idea. Gold was pretty pissed at them. And he doesn’t even know yet how much money the whole trip swallowed.

“She looks like a tomato,” Regina whispers in her ear and they are still wearing the rings (also a reason why they are in hiding, because how do you explain that). They are able to take them off now, though. Gold, dressed in tux told them in his shop after their hectic arrival in Storybrooke that obviously that’s been some fucked up magic shit, too. He gave them some potion that got rid of the dust in their system and suddenly the rings could be moved and their memories returned.

And oh god, there was a lot to remember. Most things involved less clothing and a lot of touching. Which is why Emma doesn’t even flinch when Regina’s lips brush her ear. Which is why they decided to keep the rings.

“Or like Grumpy when he’s angry with Granny for throwing him out,” Emma whispers back.

They both giggle.

“You two, go get a room or stop giggling. I need to focus,” Belle scolds them, trying to get into her shoes. Ruby is steadying her and giving them a hard look. Suddenly she’s Belle’s lap dog.

Emma takes Regina’s hand and they leave the tent. Belle and Gold are getting married in the forest, a shout out to their origins in the Enchanted Forest or whatever. And that’s why this tent with a large mirror, carpets, armchairs and a table is set up close to the spot the ceremony will be held. Most people are already there, among them also her parents with her baby brother, and Henry. Henry, the only one who knows that they accidentally got married. (The kid laughed for minutes. Lying on the floor, holding is stomach. Yeah, it was fucking hilarious, especially Regina’s face in that moment.)

Regina entangles her fingers with hers and sighs. She’s wearing a blue robe and looks oddly happy, considering that the hickey is still there and that the thin scarf around her neck is super obvious, but who cares. No one even knows about them being married or an actual thing or whatever the holding hands means.

Emma is okay with that.

*

“Maybe we should take off the rings,” Emma suddenly remembers. “I mean, there are going to be a lot of people, my parents for example, so it’d be awkward to have a ring on your finger, huh?”

(Robin isn’t invited and even if he was, he wouldn’t have come. Old feuds die hard or something like that.)

Regina looks at her as if she missed some great news. Emma feels naked in a way she hates feeling naked, because if there is one person that can read her like an open book, it’s Regina.

She really has no idea who starts the kissing thing, but it’s better than she remembers, because the returned memories feel more like a dream. She needs to get used to the fact that everything she remembers now really happened. Which might take some time. Regina gasps in her mouth and her hands are pulling her closer and okay, kissing in the forest in front of a tent where a werewolf is trying to calm down a nervous wreck of a bride is not the best idea.

 _Fuck it_.

*

**1 day after the wedding**

Snow is doing laundry, when she finds the black phone in Emma’s bag. It’s not Emma’s though, because she remembers that Emma has a white one. Somehow she bumps with a thumb on the home button and the display turns on.

There is no screen lock and she’s looking at the gallery of pictures, Ruby took during the Vegas trip that somehow ended in some sort of mayhem. She still has no idea what happened over there and Emma’s call hours before the wedding made her heart pause, but now everything’s good.

“What are you smiling at?” David whispers, hugging her from behind. Leo is having his nap and it’s nice to have some time for them, even if it’s for doing laundry.

“Ruby’s phone got in Emma’s bag. And the gallery was open, there was no screen lock, so…”

“Oh, Belle without her sunburn,” David chuckles and she turns around to swat his shoulder lightly.

“Don’t be mean.” She goes through the pictures and on some of them are also Emma and Regina, glaring at each other. There is even a video of them fighting in front of a vending machine about what chocolate bar they should take.

David sighs. “They are so exhausting sometimes,” he says with a small shake of his head. “Like children.”

Snow smiles, because they sound like old parents and somehow she doesn’t mind that much. She actually likes it. The next pictures are from Las Vegas and they both can pinpoint the moment the group got a bit too drunk.

Snow shakes her head and her hand with the phone trembles. “David,” she chokes out and there is no air in her lungs, even though she keeps breathing. “David, why…!”

“This is disturbing. Why would they make out with each other?”

“How can you be so calm about this?” she hisses, staring at him.

David raises his hands. “I am not! I just… look, we should stop going through these pictures, because it’s none of our business. Emma will come to us and tell us about it. Maybe not. We just have to wait and forget what Regina’s tongue looks like while making out with somebody as quickly as possible.” He shudders and rubs his eyes. Then he kisses her cheek and goes back to Leo’s crib to check on him.

Snow wants to put the phone down and ignore the newly discovered… whatever this is. But her fingers won’t listen to her and—

Is that Emma giving Regina a hickey? Oh god. What is Regina’s hand doing in this picture? Why is Ruby suddenly on stage with a male stripper? Wow, Belle puking. Seriously, what is wrong with her best friend and why did she take all these pictures? Why is Emma standing in a fountain with Regina on her arms? Where did she get that cowboy hat? And why are they in a chapel?

 _Oh no_.

“David!”


End file.
